


i took my love, i took it down

by yellowledbetter



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Ficlet, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this in like an hour, M/M, Panic Attacks, Roger needs a hug, Romance, Slow Romance, Songfic, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, john is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowledbetter/pseuds/yellowledbetter
Summary: Every time Roger closes his eyes he sees John.John is gorgeous. He’s got moonshine in his eyes and when he smiles the world shakes. He’s a sight that Roger wouldn’t mind seeing constantly, but he desperately needs him out of his head, because John will never be his to hold, his to kiss, never be his. And Roger has never thought this to be a problem, until today.Roger never thought he needed John like this in his life. He’s always liked him. He saw his talent first. He knew the moment he stepped into the room that John was their missing puzzle piece. But Roger never thought he would need John like this. He doesn’t even know how it’s happened, or when this happened, but it’s happened, and Roger has fallen hard and he can’t get back up.(Roger is drunk and realises he's in love with John.)





	i took my love, i took it down

**Author's Note:**

> just some .. hopeless romanticism i wrote .. it's awful short and written incredibly quickly, but hey, hope it can be a source of enjoyment for a little while!

Every time Roger closes his eyes he sees John.  
  
John is gorgeous. He’s got moonshine in his eyes and when he smiles the world shakes. He’s a sight that Roger wouldn’t mind seeing constantly, but he desperately needs him out of his head, because John will never be his to hold, his to kiss, never be his. And Roger has never thought this to be a problem, until today.  
  
Roger never thought he needed John like this in his life. He’s always liked him. He saw his talent first. He knew the moment he stepped into the room that John was their missing puzzle piece. But Roger never thought he would need John like this. He doesn’t even know how it’s happened, or when this happened, but it’s happened, and Roger has fallen hard and he can’t get back up.  
  
Just hours earlier John had dragged Roger’s drunk ass out of the pub, the smaller man trying to writhe out of the bassists arms in fury. Roger doesn’t even remember what had been said to him, and why he was so angry, and why he had threatened another man with his fists, but it was so bad that John had dragged him out of the pub and towards the pier, away from it all.  
  
“Shh, Rog, calm down—the fresh air should do you good,” John had reassured, his two hands still firmly placed on Roger’s heaving shoulders.  
  
He was right. John was always right. John always seemed to know with Roger.  
  
Roger breathed in heavily, the cool breeze lightly nipping at his flushed, warm skin. He felt relaxed for once, and very cleansed. At a calm.  
  
He sat down at the edge of the pier, sighing. “I’m sorry, Deaky. I got ahead of myself.”  
  
John had laughed at him fondly, sitting himself next to Roger, “When do you not? But it’s fine. You’re funny when you’re angry.”  
  
Roger scoffed, “Funny? I am not funny when I am angry. I’m scary.”  
  
“Sure. Shortie,” John had teased lightly, batting him on the shoulder playfully.  
  
“I’m not fucking short!” Roger hissed.  
  
“Alright, whatever helps you sleep at night,” John laughs.  
  
And they’re both silent for a while. But it’s comfortable. Roger doesn’t typically like silence, he likes talking, he needs to talk to feel energy, but with John, just being around him gives him the energy he needs. He always feels safe when he’s with John. There’s something about him.  
  
They can hear the muffled sound of the music bar just a 100 or so meters away from them. The soft plucking of guitars and the melodic voice of Stevie Nicks’. Roger recognised the song instantly.  
  
_“Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'_

  
_'Cause I've built my life around you_

  
_But time makes you bolder_

  
_Even children get older_

  
_And I'm gettin' older, too..”_  
  
Roger shuts his eyes to the melody, letting the music flow into him, letting himself lose himself in it.  
  
But John hums softly to the music, his voice melodic and gentle, and Roger is hit with this electricity, a feeling he’s never felt before.  
  
His eyes flutter open, and he looks over at John, the moonlight framing him, so that all he can see is him. The nearby lights of the pub seem to be a haze. He doesn’t know why it’s taken him so long to realise that John Deacon is beautiful.  
  
Roger inched closer to him, he has no control of his body, but as he nears him John suddenly turns around to face him, and Roger is frozen in his tracks. He’s completely paralyzed.  
  
“..You okay, buddy?” John had asked slowly.  
  
Roger blinked, swallowing, but unable to formulate a response. His hands begin to shake, and then his whole body.  
  
“..God, Rog, you’re shivering—okay, I think you’ve had enough, let’s get you home before you catch your death,” John worried, beginning to stand up and help the blonde up himself.  
  
Roger didn’t feel cold at all.

* * *

  
  
And now he’s in bed.

He’s been tossing and turning for quite a while now. He wants to sleep, he really does, but every time he closes his eyes he sees John. And he sees his lips. And he does what he wants to do. And he’s jolted back awake, and Roger’s hands are clammy and his chest is getting increasingly tighter.  
  
He loathes himself for feeling like this. He’s already got an eye on Brian, and now he’s starting to catch something for John—and he’s so confused and he’s feeling so much guilt. And when he tries and relaxes all he can think about is losing John. He can see him leaving through a door, out of his life forever—and the thought of it causes Roger’s breathing to quicken in pace.  
  
His breathing is shallow, and he’s so sweaty and his chest is tight and it feels like it is frozen. He heaves, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the impending anxiety pounding at him. He can barely breathe, and he begins to feel faint. The walls close in on him, and just when he’s about to get suffocated his hand grabs for his phone and he’s dialing a number—memorized off by heart, and the phone rings. So slowly.  
  
_“Hey, Rog..what’s up..?”_ John says groggily.  
  
Roger’s breath hitches, “S..sorry Deaky..I just..I-I don’t know..I can’t..”  
  
“Please don’t leave me,” Roger whimpers pathetically, his voice cracking, his face crumpling.  
  
_“Woah,”_ John says, clearly alarmed and now more awake. Roger can hear him shift.  
  
_“Hey, Rog, slow down. What’s wrong?_ ” He asks with concern.  
  
“Just. Please don’t,” Roger chokes, a single tear escaping him.  
  
_“Woah, woah, Rog. Of course not. Why would you think that?”_ John tries to reassure.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m just..terrified right now and I don’t know why,” Roger strains, unable to stop the freely flowing tears now.  
  
_“Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay,”_ John says softly.  
  
Roger sniffles, hiccuping, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m such a mess.”  
  
John chuckles softly, _“You’re okay, Rog. Don’t worry. You’re probably just a little anxious tonight. A bit of a mix of the alcohol and too much sensations.”_  
  
Too much sensations, alright.  
  
“..I just..don’t want you..to not be in my life,” Roger sniffles softly, wiping at the tears furiously.  
  
John softens, and sighs, _“Roger. I don’t see myself not being in your life for the foreseeable future. I’m going to be here a while, okay? Besides, who would I take the piss out of if you weren’t in my life?”_  
  
Roger manages a laugh at that.  
  
“I’m sorry about this, John. God, it’s nearly half three in the morning. You should be sleeping,” Roger frets.  
  
_“Roger, it’s fine. It really is. You do know I care a lot about you and just want you to feel safe?”_ John says softly.  
  
_“Because I really do. I don’t like the idea of you being all alone and anxious like this. I’m actually glad you called me. Because this way you know you’re not alone—you know that, right?”_  
  
Roger smiles a little, “I do now.”  
  
_“Good. Because you’re not.”_  
  
“I love you, John. You’ve been..a fantastic friend to me. Thank you.”  
  
John chuckles, _“I love you too, Rog. This is the nicest we have ever been to each other. And you’re not going to remember this in the morning.”_  
  
Roger laughs a little, “I’d say it’s for the best. I don’t think sober me would approve of all these nice things I’m saying.”  
  
_“I agree. Look..Rog, you sound exhausted. Please try and get some rest. I don’t want to have to deal with a cranky you tomorrow,”_ John jokes lightheartedly.  
  
Roger manages a smile, “Okay. I’ll try. Thank you, John. Really.”  
  
They end the call shortly afterward.  
  
And his chest feels much looser. He can still hear John’s voice in his head. He feels much lighter. There’s this warmth in his heart and his hands are tingling and there are butterflies in his stomach. He feels so safe, and so secure for once. He thinks of flowers and dewy grass. He feels as though that the moonshine that shines into his bedroom window was made just for him.  
  
Oh no.  
  
“Oh fuck,” Roger hisses to himself, burying his face into his pillow, “Oh god. What have I done to myself?”  
  
He curses his heart right there and there. He curses himself for being so careless with his heart and letting it go chasing after someone, yet again. He feels like an absolute idiot, but he feels at this stage there’s nothing he can do about it.  
  
He’s fallen too hard. There’s no turning back. His courage cannot desert him. His heart cannot fail him now. This is his journey now.  
  
He rolls over and blindly rummages through the pile of records that sit in one of the drawers of his bedside table, and as he finds what he is searching for, quickly places it onto his record player. And the music plays.  
  
_“Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?_

  
_Can the child within my heart rise above?_

  
_Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?_

  
_Can I handle the seasons of my life?”_  
  
Roger sighs softly, closing his eyes. He sees John again. But this time he just lets it happen. This is his journey. He’ll just have to see where this road takes him.  
  
_Ah, take my love, take it down_

  
_Oh, climb a mountain and turn around_

  
_And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills_

  
_Well, the landslide will bring it down_

  
_And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills_

  
_Well, the landslide will bring it down_

  
_Oh, the landslide will bring it down._

**Author's Note:**

> you may have seen this on my ask blog @ask-rogertaylor, and you can also find me on my main @queenrogerina!!!


End file.
